


Menime: Welcome to the D

by JulieWindsong



Category: Eminem (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulieWindsong/pseuds/JulieWindsong
Summary: Jenni won rap contest in her small little podunk side of the world and by a fluke grand prize was a trip to Detroit to audition for Dr. Dre himself. She is basically nothing but a carbon copy of Eminem. Except she's a chick who calls herself Menime(Eminem spelled backwards).Dre loves it. Marshall hates it. "Eminem" publicly has to make it appear he's so down with it. "Slim's" still contemplating the issue.Meanwhile "Menime" refuses to give in to Marshall's behavior. And Jenni doesn't know how long she can keep this game up.
Relationships: Eminem/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Menime

**Author's Note:**

> I guess the general note here is anything written in italics is the public persona of 'Menime' speaking(with great sarcasm, I might add), and normal don't is the chick behind said persona.

Ya know it started as a joke, really.The music video 'My Name Is" was playing on the TV. Sydney, Kai and me were rapping along. Well--More accurately Sydney was dancing like, well the actual epitome of what Becky's friend so aptly described as "one of those rap guy's girlfriends". And Kai, the honest-to-God-True-To-Life Stan _(2.0. Obviously. Because he's gay. And alive. Yeah. I said it. Bite me. 👅)_ And then there was me. No. I'm not bragging. Not even close. To be honest if you asked all three of us to describe my "debut performance" of "My Name Is" that day, you'd get three totally different answers. Syd, my amazingly plain(her words, not mine) and exceptionally average (again, her words, not mine) best friend would say, and I quote _(Yeah...I asked her. So what? Shut up....), "Omg_ **JENNI**! It was breathtakingly epic. No performance you've given since then could EVER top that one!" _(Yes, I assure you that I rolled my eyes as far back into my head to just shy of aneurysm status when she said that. 🙄🙄🙄 Fuck really? I sure fucking hope that my performances have improved considering I rapped like Paris Hilton on experimental "diet" pills, Day 37 then and I'm signed to Aftermath now. Honestly I'm not even sure why she's my friend...I'm kidding. I mean, mostly. ❤️)_

And Kai...well he would /obviously/ tell you that he has absolutely no recollection of how I looked and/or sounded said day, because /HIS/ skillz were on 🔥, and completely _FABULOUS✨glitter glitter✨,so he was focused_ on how to improve on perfection. _(I mean, he'd be sooo wrong, considering that to this day he strongly resembles Spongebob doing the Goofy Goobers song when he raps....but that's what he'd say....)_

Although I can admit that the most accurate answer is Okay. I did okay. I barely knew the words, I had never tried to rap before, oh yeah...and I'm a fuckin white chick. 🤷

Anyways, no matter how you slice it I must have at least been doing better than the two of them, because listening to the "heart" I put into the words(said by Kai) and the "fact" that it looked like my "very soul was reaching out to communicate with Eminem in that deeply personal way"( _Syd...I mean, obviously, right? 🙄),_ they jokingly called me Mini Me, because I seemed to "agree with the song". _(I mean like, why /wouldn't/ I agree to a song where a guy's telling me his name❓)_

But ya know, then the album, The Slim Shady EP was released. I wanted it so freaking bad. But I just couldn't afford it. So occasionally if I happened to have a friend with it they'd play a track or two, and the joke started seeming... accurate. This guy was pissed off. And, also, he didn't give a fuck. About anything. _(Hmmm...Bi-polar much? YES PLEASE❗)_

When The Marshall Mathers LP was released, I had some extra funds. I was among the first of my friends to buy-AND COMPLETELY MEMORIZE-this album. 

And slowly but surely, everyone I knew started calling me Menime _(Ya know, after they realized that was a much better spelling for the word in this case...🙄)_. Not so much because I liked Eminem so much...au contraire. It was because one by one my friends started dropping of the Stan Wagon. I started hearing them saying things like, "OMG **JENNI**! He said TOTALLY mean things about the Columbine kids!! That was, like, a total tragedy! It just offends me..." ( _Syd, obviously, right? For the record I would like to add that that entire statement was made at normal volume....except when she whispered the word 'Columbine', like she was spilling government secrets. And yes...she actually called it a 'total tragedy'. 🙄🙄)_. And ya know, things like, " **Jenni** the things he says about gays...I-I just...I'm sorry. I can't." Ok...so maybe Kai had a valid point. FOR HIMSELF. I get it. I do. But the fact that Eminem hates gays doesn't offend me in any way. That doesn't mean that I hate gays. Not at all. But to quote the legend...."I Just Don't Give A Fuck"...that Eminem hates them. Not my fight. Not my problem. And even if it /was/ my fight, why should his opinion bother me? 

So yeah...bottom line Menime was a joke. The way they teased me with my 'borderline obsession' with this cute lil white rapper from down Detroit way...

But how did it stick? How did my entire career become based off my friends' inside jokes?...

Read the the next chapter. I promise, I'll fill you in on my dumb luck.


	2. Only One Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Jenni got an audition with Aftermath

With the coming of The Eminem Show, and 'Marshall and Kim's" exploits all over the place, my interest in the trio that was one man grew to new heights. Me. The girl who merely tolerated rap music but didn't really care for it was hanging on his every word. And then came the hate. People accusing me of only being into Eminem because he's hot. Ah. Well. It's bout time. Finally. /NOW/ I'M OFFENDED.

Ok. I've never fucking denied it. The man is sexy as fuck. In his own words I'd have to say I don't give a fuck if this dude was my own father, I'd still let him fuck me with no rubber, cum inside me and have a son and a new brother at the same time and just say it wasn't his. _(WHAT'S MY NAME? 😂 I couldn't resist..and I will not apologize...)_ But, seriously, give me just a little more credit than that. I mean I know I'm a white girl, but damn. I might listen to a song or two cause "Ya look cute while you sing it, 🧁." But if you're music sucks your looks are not going to be anywhere near enough to get me to sit through that shit. So, please, don't flatter yourself. The man got skills. And you know you can't deny it.

I listened to The Eminem Show religiously. Except Drips. I have to admit, I can't stand that song. Not even slightly. But back on track now, I memorized that entire album to where this white girl could flow with every track. (Even Drips. I can sing it. I just choose not to.)

And...that was when I realized something. I could rap the entire album without fucking up. That's...like...skills...right?! I mean, maybe?

Where I lived in the Midwest, rapping was a skill that was tough to hone in public. I mean, this ain't the D. The only shelters we got...house animals, or the homeless. Not epic rap battles.

So imagine my surprise when a rap battle came to town.

Well...not my town. But the big town closest to me. Same thing, don't worry about it....because all you need to know is I was ON THAT SHIT. One of the first to sign up. They didn't advertise what the First Prize was going to be, but rumor had it Second Prize was a $500 Walmart gift card. And that's what I wanted. That's the whole reason I signed up. _(Come on 2nd Place...Mama needs dish soap and fabric softener. Fuck you. #TheStruggleIsReal)_

I just...kinda... forgot about this one...little...tiny... Well...two, really.... these...two, little..tiny...details.

Big battle night finally arrives and I show up to the bar and...two things happened: One. I remembered the two little tiny details: A. I'm white and B. I'm a chick.

And Two:

Those two little tiny things weren't so tiny. 

Y'all. I'm not sure who needs to know this, but just in case you didn't know, black dudes...they like EXCEL at rap. Mmmhmm. I'm telling you. It is not a myth. You'd think I would have known that... considering it's like 96% of what Eminem raps about. But, like I said, I forgot.

But I remembered when I saw my competition. I was one of only two white people in the whole battle. And I was the only female. Nerves hit me and I just wanted to drop out. Run away. Forget how stupid it was to sign up for something so ridiculous, anyway. 

And then Syd did what Syd does best. She reminded me why I keep her around 😉.

"Menime...Pfft. You ain't no Menime.", She told me. "Cause Menime...Menime is the female Eminem. And I'm tellin you...Eminem...he'd do the fuckin battle." She was right. So I did the fuckin battle.

And I won! Not 2nd Place. First. First Motherfucking Place. In a rap battle in KANSAS, y'all. Second Place was the $500 Walmart I had coveted so hard, so as you can imagine I was totally stoked at the prospect of a fucking $1000 Walmart Card. WHAT⁉️❗❓

But, as fate would have it, a $1000 Walmart gift card was not the First Prize. 

First Prize was an all-inclusive round trip to Detroit... to audition for Dr. Dre at Aftermath Records...

"But what's your rap name?", The Club Owner asked me. 

"My what?", I asked him.

" **MENIME!!!!",** Syd and Kai shouted in unison.

"N-", I started to protest as the Owner said, "Works for me. M-I-N-"

 _ **"NO!!!!",**_ Syd yelled _(rather annoyingly, I might add 🙄🙄)_. "It's _**M-E-N-I-M-E.**_ " Then she winked at me. "Trust me, **Y/N**. He's going to **_LOVE_** it."

Remind me again why the **FUCK** I keep Syd around? 🙄🙄


	3. White Girl in the D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Syd and Kai give Jenni advice on the "persona" she should show during audition, and then Y/N boards a plane-without her besties to go audition for Dr. Dre.

_(Before Jenni begins this chapter, I, Menime request that you scroll back up and re-read the chapter's title. It says_ _ **/IN/**_ _the D, not **/ON/** the D. That is all.)_

Two days before my trip, Kai randomly asks, "Have you thought about your gimmick, yet?"

I looked up from the lyrics I was reading over and over trying to connect them in new and exciting way and glanced at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?", I asked, looking at him like he was stupid.

"That.", He said, pointing at me. "I'm talking about exactly that."

I blinked at him. "English, Kai. I speak English.", I said, getting slightly frustrated at his cryptic speak.

"Well I mean like Eminem's got Slim Shady. Snoop's got weed. Dre's got...", He paused, searching for the right words, "Aftermath, G's, and bitches.", He shrugged, laughing a little.

Shit. A gimmick. I hadn't exactly thought about that.

"Come on, Jenni!", Syd said, looking at me as she shook her head. "You /MUST/ know.", She said, like she felt sorry for me because I had missed something obvious. 

I stared at her blankly. She sighed an overly exaggerated sigh, causing Kai to laugh. "What? Tell me!", I exclaimed, I've only got two days til I leave. And I need a gimmick AND a hit song...help a bitch out!", I sighed.

Syd spoke slowly to me, as if I were stupid. "You're a white chick who knows absolutely nothing about rap music, the rap game...EXCEPT- -WAIT! You're a white girl who knows everything about Eminem...who is named freakin Menime!"

"So...I'm a copy cat with a pussy? Greeeaaat....copy cats last forever in the rap game...", I said, sarcastically as I rolled my eyes.

"Well it worked for MGK.", Kai said with a shrug as he burst into laughter. Syd and I couldn't help ourselves from laughing either. That was a nice little gem, implying MGK was a copy cat with a pussy. 

"I just...I don't know. It's fun to joke that Eminem would love that I follow his career and have all my little 'STAN-nerisms', but, really, don't you think he'd really think it's kinda creepy?"

"Of course not.", Syd assured her. You just gotta act like Slim Shady without making it obvious you're acting like Slim Shady.", She added with a nod.

"So what are you saying? Don't spit on the fucking onion rings?', I asked exasperated.

"Well that and just be a dick while playing it off that you're oblivious to the fact that you're being a dick. It can't be that hard.", Kai piped in.

I rolled my eyes at them. "If it were really that easy we'd all be millionaires.", I reminded them.

"Yeah...", Syd admitted with a shrug. "But there'd still only be one Menime."

I smiled at her. "Damn straight.", I said, reaching out to fist bump her. She returned the bump. "Word."

"So really though, how's you're song coming along?", Kai asked.

"Oh it's great...", I said. "I have all the lyrics written down."

"Really?!", Syd squealed. _(Like /literally/ squealed. Like a Motherfucking pig.)_

"Mmmhmm.", I nodded. "Now I just gotta figure out what order to say them in, what beat to say them to and how the fuck I'm going to do that in front of Doctor Fucking Dre..."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Ass. I was excited for you."

"Sorry...I'm just stressed. I'm pretty sure I'm just going to go in Dre's office and just...white girl all over the place..', I admitted with a sigh.

"No you are won't. I have faith in you, bestie.", Syd tried to assure me.

"I'm glad someone does ", I said and dropped my eyes back to the lyric sheet.

They didn't ask about the song again before I left. They knew it would only stress me beyond belief, and neither of them wanted to do that to me, and honestly, they didn't wanna endure it either. I guess I can be a dick when I'm stressed. Must be my STAN-dardized Just Don't Give a Fuck attitude. 

Sonofabitch. Maybe I am nothing more than just a Menime after all.

\-------------------------------------

I boarded the plane Friday evening at 7:15. First class, champagne, strawberries. And...oh...Cher. MOTHERFUCKING CHER was in the seat next to me. Ain't gonna lie, I felt like Syd, cause, like OMG, it took everything in my power not to squeal. Seriously. It could have been bad. 

She was so professional, too. And the 'Old Pro' in her, could see, or fuck, perhaps even smell the "Newbie" in me.

'First audition." It was a statement, not a question. "Remember mine like it was yesterday. I was a ball of nerves! But Sonny was so confident.", She smiled, chuckling softly at her memory. "It was cute." She looked at me. "So... who's getting your virginity?", She asked, teasingly.

"Dr. Dre.", I said.

She looked impressed. "Nice job, kid.", She praised. "Got your music and song all ready?", She questioned. 

"No.", I admitted with a sigh. "I'm having so much trouble putting the lyrics together to finish the rap."

Cher nodded. "First time Sonny and I did an audition for a variety show, we showed up all prepared and submitted our music to the band, only to find out an act ahead of us was doing the same cover. I had twenty minutes to write lyrics, music and a dance routine."

"Man. Did everything turn out ok?", I asked her.

She smiled. "Depends. Do ya think we did good on The Art Linkletter Variety Show?", She asked with a teasing grin. "Don't worry kid. You got this. If ya weren't supposed to be here...", She paused, shrugging for dramatic effect, "You wouldn't here."

Good to know, Cher. Good to know.

Why can't raps just write themselves?

When the plane landed in Detroit, I was met by a limo driver who took me to the fanciest hotel I had ever seen. It was kind of sad, considering that was by Detroit's standards. But it didn't matter. I couldn't enjoy the luxury, anyways. I had to rap. In seven hours. For Dr. Dre. And I didn't even have a song. 

This was gonna suck.


	4. Straight Outta...Potwin, Kansas?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to audition. You brought the song, right?
> 
> FUCK.

Ok listen. This is no time panic, right? I mean, yeah I'm sitting in the waiting outside Dr. Dre's office right now. I have written exactly...somewhere around...zero percent of the song since we last left off. But, my dear Reader, don't fret. We're good. This... This is the easy part for us. Us being...well you and I, obviously.

This...is the CLIMAX. The part where-FOURTH WALL BREAK- the writer of this story swoops in at the very last second when it seems all hope is lost with some hidden gem we missed along the way, or some seemingly meaningless piece of information we've forgotten about that will inevitably save the day and make my-and by proxy YOUR- dreams come true. Ahh. Relaxing, isn't it? It shouldn't be much longer now.

Ok...so, it probably only took you, like a millisecond to move your eyes from the last paragraph to this one, but, um, I've been sitting here for almost 35 minutes, and nothing has happened, and Dre's office door is opening. NOW, AUTHOR, NOW'S YOUR TIME TO SHINE..........

SERIOUSLY?! FUCK.

"Meni-mizzle, is it?" I saw the cloud of smoke before the silhouette of the man appeared. But, even I, the white chick from Oz, would recognize that voice. And that smell. 

"SNOOP DOGG?!" Fuck you, author. I hate you, too. 

"Snoop..Sit yo black ass down and stop intimidatin my guest, would you please?", Dre asked, suddenly appearing beside Snoop, a calming smile appearing on his features as he came my direction, his hand out for a handshake. "Hello Menime. I'm Dre. It's a pleasure to have you here."

Ok. I'm envoking a Saved By the Bell-style time out **RIGHT. MOTHERFUCKING** **. HERE.** I'm going to close my eyes and sl-l-l-l-o-o-o-w-w-ly take a deep breath, exhale and then calmly apologize to Dre for wasting him and Snoop's valuable time and explain why they should have never...ever...ever...let me come here...One second. I promise I'll be...right back with you....

_(Aight. Yo. Menime here. I got this. This is /MY/ game, after all.)_

_Menime rose from her chair, no real expression on her stone cold face, firmly taking his hand in hers and gave it a nice 4.5 second shake. "Nah, Dre, uh, Dr. Dre, sir. The pleasure Is mine.", Menime said with a nod. (Alright not 100% smooth. But workable. Don't judge me. I didn't see you coming up with any ideas. Shut up. Let the Master work.)_

Dre chuckled. "Dre is just fine. No Dr.'s or sirs or Mr.'s. This is a casual meeting." He turned and motioned for me to follow him back into his office, and nodded for me to sit in the empty seat next to Snoop. "Feel free to just call him Snoop. Or ignore him, that's what I try to do. Your choice though." He said with a big grin as he took his seat on the most comfortable looking leather couch I have ever seen.

Snoop scoffed and genuinely looked offended. "I am a livin motherfuckin legend, Dre. You better recognize.", He told Dre and then without so much as missing a beat, he, like, twirled his fingers and basically fuckin summoned a smoking blunt out of thin motherfuckin air. It was...magical, really. 'Blunt?", he asked, offering it to me.

_Menime took the blunt from Snoop and took a long, slow, obviously seasoned draw off the blunt, holding it in as she passed it back to Snoop. And, ladies and gentlemen, she did not cough. Not even once. She finally opened her mouth to speak, allowing the smoke to roll from her mouth as she did, "Hmm. Nice, smoky flavor, robust and slightly piny. Smooth, hardly harsh at all. And just a hint of honey to hold that delicious chocolate chiva together. Grade motherfuckin A. You did not disappoint, Snoop. Not that there was ever a doubt in my mind.", Menime said, looking at Snoop._

"I like her, Dre. And you know I don't motherfuckin like nobody. Can we keep the lil white Slim Shady fan girl, Dre? Please?", Snoop asked before taking a hit off the blunt himself.

Dre rolled his eyes. "You like anybody that will smoke chronic with you, nigga. You don't gotta lie to kick it, bro. You know this...

Snoop scoffed again and shrugged, "There's somethin bout this one, fo rizzle tho. That's all I'm saying."

"But can she rap? Can she write sick rhymes? Anybody can look the part, Snoop. The skillz only pick a select few."

_(Ok, for real though, I had no idea what the fuck I was doin. No I idea what I was gonna say, or do, or nothin...I just opened my mouth and...)_

_Guys I'm pretty sure I got possessed by the motherfuckin Rap God himself. Rhymes flew out of my mouth at-just under-supersonic speed. I rapped about not caring for rap, I rapped about the night I rapped with Syd and Kai to the video. I rapped about how fucking sexy Eminem was, but how that cock wouldn't interfere with the dream, the rhymes or the motherfuckin vibes._

"Yo! What the fuck?", Dre asked, mouth agape, eyes fixated on me. 

Snoop did a little dance still sitting in his chair as he passed me the blunt again. "We getta keep tha lil white Slim Shady fan girl...", He sang in a sing songy voice as I hit his blunt again.

Dude...after completing fucking blowing Dr. Dre's mind, and smoking Snoop's fire ass weed I was soaring on cloud 9. Absolutely so high nothin could bring me dow-

"Fangirl?", Eminem asked, opening the door and coming in the office. "Don't you mean 'Copycat with a pussy'?", He asked, closing the door and folding his arms, looking directly at me. He did not look happy.

 _Fuck._..Almost had it.


	5. Copycat With a Pussy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dre loves it. Marshall hates it. Jenni is confused. And Snoop...well, Snoop's stoned.

Dre stood when Eminem let himself into the room. "Stand down, Em. We talked about this.", He said putting his hand out, a gesture to stop him.

I let the breath out, ending the time out and start to refocus. Wait. Dre's standing. Snoop's... chair dancing with a blunt?...

And Eminem's... That's not "Eminem'. Holy Fuck. That's Slim. This is not a drill. I repeat this is not a drill.

What did you do?! Yes. You, reading this. I'm breaking the wall again. I do that. Keep up...Focus....Why is he mean-mugging me? What. Did. You. Do?

I blink, waiting for someone to say something, and I refocus now that the 'High of Menime' has worn off. And I hear it again, as if for the first time. He called me a copy cat with a pussy, didn't he? Fuck. I should apologize. Or something. Make this better, somehow...Eminem can't be mad at me...

_Menime raised a brow. "Who's the copy cat now?", She mumbled under her breath._

Eminem, who had turned look Dre when he spoke snapped his head back toward me and he took a step forward. "I'm sorry? Did you say something?", He spat.

_"I said 'Who's the copy cat now?'", Menime said slowly, as though making sure he understood her._

(Oh my God, Reader...why is she doing this? How do we make her stop?! )

Eminem looked at me, confused at Menime's words.

_"Copycat with a pussy.", She repeated. "Two days ago...I told Syd and Kai that's what you'd think of me. I literally can't wait to tell Kai he was wrong. I am the copy cat with a pussy, not MGK. Nice to know I'm already beating that little prick in the rap game."_

Snoop snickered at her MGK comment. "I still like her. Be cool, Em. Let Menime do her thang...Chill, cuz."

"First: She ain't doin her thing. She's doing my thing, and that's why I'm fuckin pissed. And B. Not Em. Eminem is a public figure. When she signs with Shady/Aftermath, publicly, I, /EMINEM/ have to support this motherfuckin charity case known as Menime cause I'm her idol or some retarded bullshit like that that Dre will make me say. But me, Marshall-motherfuckin-Mathers has a BIG FUCKIN problem with this entire fucking thing. Menime...like sayin you're my motherfuckin protòge. Like who the fuck is who to choose /MY/ fuckin protòge. That's my job bitch..."

(Ok...Menime. Be cool. Spit some ill shit. Reel it back in. If anyone can get Eminem to like them it's you... obviously. You're name says it all...)

_Menime looked at Marshall, as though searching for the right words. When she opened her mouth, it seemed that she had possibly come up with some profound shit to turn this all back around so she'd come out smelly rosy, but, instead, these words fell out of it, "Aight so let me get this straight: Em be aight with it, and Marshall has rather strong feelings against the entire fuckin project. So, what I'mma need you to do is consult with Slim Shady, find out where he stands on it, cause, let's face it, he's the real wild card here. Dre will take care of you an Em, and let's face it, worst case scenario /I/ can handle y'all if I need to. Slim though....See it's like I always say when I meet Em-er, you...things will be perfect,ya know, til I inevitably piss Slim off. Then...", She sighed, for dramatic effect, then continued, "It's gonna end. Badly. One of us may not walk away." She took the last step between them, so close their tennis shoes touched slightly, just shy of 'toe-to-toe', "Problem is, I ain't quite sure which one will be left standin. So...how you wanna play this, Marshall?"_

He didn't even blink, just stared at her. It was, technically a compliment. Even though he would never say it, her balls to the wall attitude had impressed him, Slim, that is. A little. Finally, he spoke again, only to answer her /first/question, "Jury's still out on Slim. I'll keep you posted, C.C.", he said before swiftly turning and walking out of the office.

_C.C.? Copycat? REALLY? Oh it is /SO/ motherfuckin ON._

Snoop giggled and looked at Dre, who was looking sooo unamused. "Dis is gon' be fun, homie.", Snoop smirked. " 'Fo Shizzle."


	6. Audition Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start moving quickly for Jenni now, but she hates that Eminem hates her. She wants to fix it, but every time he's around, 'Menime' comes out and says or does something to offend, cause she's not taking his shit. How long can this last? 
> 
> Jenni needs Kai and Syd. Bad.
> 
> \--------------++++------------------  
> Is anyone reading this? Does it suck? Is it as funny as I think it is? I started this as a joke piece and it's kind of taken on a life of its own. Do you like it? Lol Comments and Kudos appreciated!

After Eminem left the room, Dre just, all but acted like nothing had happened. Just got down to business. "Ok so verbally, you're the newest rapper here at Aftermath, but it takes a bit for the paperwork to be drawn up etc, etc.", He told me. "And by time I mean a month, maybe longer. But don't think that's all play time for you. You're gonna be writing, doing local radio shows, and honing your personal style so that whoever you're gonna be, you can authentically be at your official debut."

He was talking so fast I could barely keep up. "Now,", he spoke again, but stood, walking to his desk, where he sat and pulled out a checkbook. "All artists get a sign on bonus. Can't make a style with no G's, right?", He chuckled. "What's your true name?", He asked.

"Um Jennifer. Jennifer Taylor.", I told him, and watched him scribble a check, rip it off and hand it to me as he pressed a button to call his secretary. "Agnes send me Rachel.", He said as I took the check and looked at it.

"Holy fuck!", I exclaimed, seeing the amount. Remember when I was excited about a possible $1000 Walmart card. Well the $100,000 check I was holding on to right now sure as fuck trumped that.

Both Snoop and Dre chuckled lightly. "What's the first thing you gon buy, Menime?", Snoop asked, still grinning at me.

"I was honestly thinking of asking you if you'd sell me an ounce or two of what you're smokin there.", I said with a shrug. 

Snoop nodded. "Nice. I like the way you think." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a sandwich baggie filled with lush green buds. He held it up and looked at it before handing it to me. "That's $300. You can get me back later once you get that check cashed."

"Thanks.", I said with a smile as I took the bag and put it into my pocket. Jus then a cute little blonde girl knocked lightly on Dre's door and opened it just slightly. "You asked for me, sir?", She said to Dre.

"Rachel, come on in and meet Menime. She's in the process of getting signed, but she needs a look, you're going to escort her to my bank and get her set up with a card and then you're going to go shopping." Rachel nodded as Dre turned to me. "At 8:30 a car will be sent to your hotel and you will meet me, Slim and Em for dinner tonight. When you get to the restaurant, do not make eye contact with anyone, and do not speak until you reach my table. Tonight we will have all of the D's elite wondering who the white girl at Dre's table is. Got it?", He asked.

"Yes, Dre. Thank you...for everything.", I said, starting to follow Rachel out.

"And Jenni?", Dre said, addressing me as myself for the first time, "Don't worry about Marshall. He'll come around. Eventually."


End file.
